Ever After
by Caitlyn Rose
Summary: A collection of one shots - fluffy goodness for the emotionally destroyed Rayna/Deacon shipper.
1. Chapter 1

"Babe?" Rayna calls, hearing the front door slam, "I was just thinking…how would you feel about putting this stuff…elsewhere?"

He frowns in confusion and follows her voice to the garage. When he finds her, she's on her on her knees, poking half-heartedly through several cardboard boxes of cheap analogue recording gear, most of it broken or battered, all of it covered in twenty five years of dust.

"Like maybe a dumpster somewhere?" she continues, squinting up at him now.

"Are you kiddin' me?" he exclaims. "I'll have you know these are some priceless artifacts right here."

She raises an eyebrow. "Priceless, huh? I bet they are, no-one would pay a dime for this crap."

"_Hilarious_," he replies dryly – but as she gets to her feet, his hand still reaches out to her waist, as if of its own accord.

He kisses her quickly. "Hey."

"Hey. This garage is a _mess_."

If it occurs to Deacon that the whole place was significantly less of a mess before Rayna was possessed that morning with the sudden urge to tidy it, he wisely keeps his thoughts to himself.

Instead, he changes tack entirely. "You want a cup of coffee?"

Rayna hesitates, taking in the chaos surrounding her, clicking her tongue in dissatisfaction. Moments later, she shrugs, as though deciding to wash her hands of the whole unpleasant job, at least for the time being.

"…Sure. Where's Daphne?"

"Daphne…" he muses vacantly, leading her back into the kitchen, his hand ghosting across the small of her back. "That's the little one, right? I don't know, I think I might have left her in a store."

Rayna rolls her eyes. "Now who's hilarious? Where is she really?"

"Upstairs taking off her soccer gear. Maddie still asleep?

"Mmm-hmm. I swear, that girl has not been up before noon once this week."

"Guess that's sixteen year olds for you," he says, flicking the switch on the espresso maker. "Gonna be a shock to the system when school starts back though."

"That's for sure," Rayna agrees, flopping down on the couch and watching him move around the kitchen with ease, collecting cups and spoons and creamer as he goes. This house is bigger than his old place and smaller than hers. In more ways than one, it feels like they've met in the middle.

They chat idly about nothing in particular while the coffee machine whirrs, the radio on quietly in the background, until Deacon presents her with a mug of steaming liquid.

"You're nice to me," she says sweetly, and he just smiles, lifting up her legs and settling himself underneath them, her feet slung across his lap.

"So you know," Rayna begins after a moment, "it's gonna be a daughter-free zone around here tonight…"

"Oh yeah. What time's Teddy coming over?"

"Like, six, I think."

"Dinner for two, then, huh? You wanna order in? I could probably be talked into some Chinese food."

"Mmm, yeah, we could do that," she replies noncommittally. "Or, Tandy and Bucky are going to this thing at Layla's…"

"I'm not going to get king prawn kung po at Layla's," he points out.

"Come on," she wheedles. "A little barbecue, a little two-steppin'…"

Deacon winces, seeming – if anything – to be _less_ convinced. "Ray. I don't dance. You know this."

She just smiles the tiniest of smiles, nudging his thigh with her heel. "You will for me."

And he will. They both know it.

"You really should use your power for good, not evil – anybody ever tell you that?" he says loftily.

"I don't know, babe." She cocks an eyebrow, setting her mug on the coffee table beside his and sitting up to face him. "I can think of a time or two I've used 'em for good."

He turns towards her, a half-smile on his lips. "Well I guess when you put it like that…"

She laughs, her eyelids fluttering shut, her fingertips automatically finding his jaw line as he moves in closer. And when their mouths meet, it's comfortable and unhurried, both of them aware that this is not a precursor to anything else, that this is leading nowhere right now. It's just kissing for its own sake, and it's delicious.

Moments later, a mildly disapproving voice sounds from across the room;

"Ugh, guys, I haven't even had my breakfast yet."

Pulling away, Rayna looks up. "Well, my goodness," she says pleasantly, her voice rising in playful sarcasm, "look at this, it's my first born child, risen from the dead. What do you mean you haven't even had breakfast yet?"

"I _mean_," Maddie says, already gulping down orange juice from the refrigerator, "that I shouldn't have to witness parental making out on an empty stomach."

Deacon chuckles. "Well that's duly noted, Mads," he says, his tone suggesting he'll be losing no sleep over her psychological well-being. "What's on your agenda today anyway?"

She shrugs. "Not much. I, um, I kind of… got a gig for next weekend."

"You're kidding!" Deacon exclaims, a sudden grin breaking over his face.

"Why didn't you tell us?!" Rayna shrieks at the same moment.

At this explosion of enthusiasm, Maddie laughs bashfully. "I don't know, the guy just called me yesterday… it's just an open-mic kind of thing..."

"That is _awesome_, honey," Rayna says, her eyes shining. Deacon's confidence that between the two of them, they'll be able to keep the girls on the straight and narrow in this business has gradually rubbed off on her. The way he sees it, no parents could be in a better position to make sure their kids have all the opportunities and none of potential to be taken advantage of.

"You nervous?"

"I don't know," Maddie says, fidgeting with her hands in a way that is clearly an answer in the affirmative. "I guess. I was thinking…maybe you guys could help me practice? I think I know what songs I wanna do, but I don't know… I feel like my playing could use some work. Everyone else is probably gonna be so good."

"Well," Rayna replies laughingly, "if it's guitar help you're after, then I _know_ you're only asking me to be polite."

Her daughter grins. Busted.

"I can probably pass along some of my wisdom," Deacon says breezily, affecting an extravagant air that is so at odds with his natural humility he can hardly keep a straight face himself.

"If you can take much more of it," Rayna interjects slyly.

Deacon attempts a withering glance, but fails, breaking into laughter. "No time like the present," he says, turning back to Maddie. "How about we do it this afternoon? You mama's taking Daphne to get new school clothes anyway, right?"

He glances over at his wife, who nods her confirmation.

"Sounds good," Maddie says, pleased.

And as she rises in search of her youngest daughter, Rayna can't help but think that, yes, everything sounds very, very good.

* * *

As outlined in the description, this was written for the September challenge (I didn't quite manage under 1000 words, but close enough!). I enjoyed writing it though, and was thinking i may add to it if there is any interest - not necessarily in the form of a continued story, but maybe just other little snapshots of life. Perhaps when the season starts, we'll all enjoy imagining some point in the future where Rayna and Deacon have somehow managed to resolve all their problems!


	2. Chapter 2

Even as a little kid, Rayna had always been impeccably turned out. She was dressed by a nanny, the ties on her braids matching her shoes, and scolded when she got her knees dirty on the playground.

Over the course of the next decade, she endured a series of Lemar Wyatt lectures on such subjects as "Making Connections," "Behaving Appropriately" and "Representing The Family," and by the time she was 16, she had spent more weekends wearing pastel and smiling in the ballrooms and country clubs of Nashville than she ever cared to.

Back then, she hated all of it. _Hated_ it.

Ironically enough, it proved to be pretty good practice for later life.

Because whilst making music itself might have been all about authenticity, making it in the music _business _turned out to be rather less so.

You didn't get to be the queen of country music, she discovered, without looking and acting the part.

Even all these years later, there were still false eyelashes to be applied, and sky-high heels to endure. There were label executives to negotiate with, journalists to charm, fans to meet and greet.

But it was ok, because every day began and ended in this bed.

Because she could burrow under these covers and know that, actually, the eyelashes God gave her were just fine, thank you very much. That she didn't have to be diplomatic or be witty or be gracious – she could just _be_.

When she opened her eyes, he was already lying awake – as he nearly always was – and she shimmied over towards him, pressing her lips against his bicep lazily.

"Morning."

Deacon turned to look down at her, his neck twisted awkwardly.

"Good morning," he replied, and lifted his arm reflexively to fold it around her.

She played her part unthinkingly too, settling her head against his chest, one hand splayed out on his stomach.

"I'm soooo tireddddd," she mumbled, drawing her words out dramatically like Maddie and Daphne did sometimes.

"Go back to sleep," he said simply.

"Ugh. I wish. I have to go to that breakfast…brunch…thing."

"What?"

"I told you about this like a million times," she grumbled sleepily. "It's some charity thing Bucky roped me into – which I'm pretty sure Tandy roped _him_ into. I swear, the two of them together just has not been good for me…it's like death by scheduling."

Deacon chuckled. "So don't go."

She sighed against his skin. "Well, I told 'em I would, so, you know….plus it's for charity or whatever."

"Look at you, doing your civic duty," he teased.

Rayna rolled her eyes, even though she knew he couldn't see her properly. "I know."

"Proud of you," he added, all too sincerely.

"Shut up," she replied brusquely, her actions in juxtaposition with her tone as she tugged him over onto his side and huddled against him, wrapping her arms and legs around him like vines.

"Let's just have ten minutes," she said.

And so they lay there, clung together, exchanging a few words here or there about the day ahead, but mostly in silence.

It was Rayna's daily dose of sanity.

* * *

"Ok," she said eventually, "guess I better go and try to make myself presentable, huh?"

"Mmm, I was gonna say," he agreed seriously, pulling back a little as if appraising her appearance.

She prodded him on the shin with her foot, and he just laughed.

Looking down at her for a moment, his smiling eyes creased, he dropped a kiss to her lips. "You're beautiful," he said gently.

And Rayna smiled softly in reply, like it didn't much matter whether she was or wasn't, as long as he thought so.

All the other stuff, the body glitter and flattering lighting and schmoozing, she could endure. A lot of the time, she could even _enjoy_ it these days.

Because _this_ was real.


End file.
